


Sung on a Blood Stained Lyre

by am_i_living



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ancient History, Angst, Bad Parenting, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Boys In Love, Canon Gay Relationship, Character Death, Death, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak in Love, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Graphic Description of Corpses, Happy Ending, Human Sacrifice, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by The Song of Achilles, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, No Smut, Period-Typical Sexism, Period-Typical Underage, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Relationship(s), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier Needs a Hug, Richie Tozier is Whipped, Richie is a prince, Sad Ending, Sappy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Violence, War, depends if u read the merchant of venice as a tragedy or a comedy, eddie is patroclus, eddie kaspbrak is in exile, just for a second, no beta we die like men, richie is achilles, they are dating and in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/am_i_living/pseuds/am_i_living
Summary: Eddie wished Richie's hands would once again play his mother's lyre alone, and no longer play the game of life.aka the song of achilles fic
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Sung on a Blood Stained Lyre

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not read this is you want a happy ending, I promise it will not have one. This is a Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller rewrite but with Richie as Achilles and Eddie as Patroclus. Again, this will not have a happy ending, you have been warned.
> 
> Also everyone has greek names except for eddie and richie dwi
> 
> also if everyone hates the ending i'll change it but you gotta let me know before i upload the last chapter
> 
> Also I'm not writing the first few chapters where patroclus/eddie is like 3-8 because that's boring asf okay bye please enjoy

Eddie is at the dinner table, a rare occurrence due to his father's mere impatience for him, but today they are eating dinner as a family. Eddie, his father, and his mother.

This is to be Eddie's final meal, though he cannot bring himself to eat, everytime he tries, he sees the face of Clysonymus, eyes open and empty, head leaking blood. The sound of his head against the stone was fresh in his mind, the feel of his chest against Eddie's own hands, the death at those hands weighed heavy. A kingdom lost it's prince, yes, but also a mother her son.

His father pulled Eddie from his thoughts, "You have not eaten." Eddie couldn't bear to look at his father and face his disappointment, though he should be used to it by now. 

"I am sorry, Father," his eyes trained on the food, "I cannot."

"You refuse to eat your final meal as a prince?"

"I do not refuse, my stomach is upset." No response. "I am nervous I suppose."

"You should be, you have a long journey and a lifetime of disgrace to begin when this meal is over."

"I know, Father."

"Then eat, and leave my sight when you are finished." The gaze of his father weighed heavy, burning on Eddie's skin.

"Yes, Father."

And so Eddie forced his meat down his throat, feeling as though he was forcing it past his swollen tongue. He tasted nothing, he thought of Clysonymus, and then he got up to leave. As he stood, his chair scraped loudly against the stone floor of the grand dining room, echoing to it's high ceilings. _I will never return here_ , he had thought, _I can never return._

Again his thoughts are stolen from him, "Farewell, Eddie." His mother, his only goodbye, he would not be missed by anyone else. _I killed a prince, no more than that, a man at all._

"Farewell, Mother, I will miss you." His mother's gaze he could meet, and he did not regret it. Her eyes are warm, even if full of sorrow, as if he were walking to his death.

"And I you."

And that was his final day as Prince of Opus.

* * *

That was five days ago, he is now on his way to Phthia, five days in to the three week journey. Along with him, he brings a large bag filled with his weight in gold, the price his father paid King Peleus to foster Eddie. Often, he pulled out his personal favorite of the gifts, a wooden lyre, polished to shining and ordained with golden corners. This, he knew, was cheating, though the lyre was so beautiful he doubted anyone would mind. It was his mother's, and although she couldn't play, she would lend it to the player every night and sit extremely close, she'd let the music move her. 

That's the true reason that everyone thinks her simple, she is not, he knows, she is just free of care, free of the thoughts and the watchful eyes of others. She dances when she so feels, and sings when the spirit moves her to sing, she laughs as loud as she wants if a joke is funny, and she snorts when she laughs as loud as she wants. If she is hungry, she will ask for another plate, and if she is thirsty, she will pour her own glass. _No, she is not simple, she is freer than the rest of us, and I miss her dearly._

He is alone on his journey, no longer a prince, he has no reason to receive a carriage, or a horse to pull one. He has one wagon (filled only with gold, food, and the clothes he was allowed) and one donkey for pulling. The nights are cold, and the days are long, he is so tired, and he longs for the wall of Phthia.

* * *

Now fifteen days into his journey, he is already accustomed to hunger. Although he knows he has enough food he is plagued by worry of starvation, there is nothing on this road for miles, no shops, no towns, and certainly no kingdoms. He rations himself to two small meals a day, not enough for a growing boy, but then it will be only three weeks.

He passes the days by playing the lyre, though playing is not the right word. He was never taught the lyre, he just plucks at the strings and thinks of his mother. He remembers how she cried when she gained word of his crime, and cried harder when she was made aware of his punishment. It seems likes years ago when he was found under the oak tree, surrounded by his own vomit, covered in his own tears. A pathetic sight he is sure, and he's glad to have been spared it, even if it's only because he was the centerpiece. 

He remembers being taken to the palace, and the confession spilling from his mouth, "Clysonymus pushed me!" he had said, "He was trying to take my dice, I only meant to push him back, I never thought- well, I never meant to," the words were hard to say, he stalled them, hoping someone would finish his sentence for him.

"Say what you must, boy!" His father had yelled.

"Clysonymus is dead! He is in the field, he is dead!" Eddie fell to his knees, the horror of his reality hitting him finally, _I am going to be put to death, I will be executed by Clysonymus' family._

" _What?!"_

He remembers the group of men, sent to fetch the body, long gone cold and surely already covered with flies. He was sent to his room, and only a month later his sentence was negotiated. 

Exile to Phthia, to be fostered by King Peleus. 

He had only a week to prepare for his exile, he was to bring nothing but four sets of clothing and two pairs of shoes for himself, and the gold for the king.

* * *

It is day twenty when he remembers the story. King Peleus had been married to the sea nymph Tithes for a year after capturing her. In the year he had raped her and forced her to bear his child. As soon as her punishment was over she had dived straight into the sea and left, though often she would return to pay visit to her half-god son, who for his life Eddie could not remember the name of. Eddie tried with all his might to conjure an image of a half-god prince in his mind, though it was difficult. 

Would the prince have long blond hair, akin to the god Apollo? Or would his hair be short and brown, similar to the way most human princes looked? And would he have a divine, chiseled body, gleaming in the sun with a year long tan? Or would his body be average, and his skin tone lined with the seasons like the rest of humanity? Eddie wondered if he would have a beautiful, divine face, or an ordinary princely one? It then occurred that Eddie hardly knew anything of the prince. Eddie knew not his name, his face, not even his age. He had known the story of King Peleus his entire life, so did that mean the prince was his age? Or much older than himself?

 _I will know tomorrow,_ Eddie thought, _I will meet him and his father and I will no longer wonder._

Though he knew it would not matter anyway. He had no plans of befriending the prince, and certainly no plans to speak to him if he does not have to. His plan was to foster with the king until his 17th birthday, and then he would leave. Afterall, what prince would have business befriending an exiled murderer?

And so his journey continued, one day more to bed and shelter, one day more in the harsh sun, one day more with his pounds of food and gold.

One day more to exile.

* * *

Eventually the castle of Phthia came into view, he could not yet see the designs of the flags or the crests of the doors, for the palace was still at least two miles away, it was lost to the fog of distance, all Eddie could see was the silhouette. And slowly, over the next few minutes it came closer, and clearer. Until he was only a few moments away from his new home and life. He could see two guards ahead, side by side next to a large entrance into the castle.

Eddie could remember his father coming home from some sort of meeting in this palace, at dinner that night he spoke of the large hallways and beautifully ordained walls. Eddie could almost picture the roast dinner he had spoke of, and he remembers, now, his father mentioning a son. Though, again, he could not remember what his father had said his age was, this was years ago, perhaps three, Eddie was only seven at the time. He let the thoughts of his old life drift away as he came upon the entrance to a large tunnel. This was not the grand entrance he was sure his father had used, this was the entrance of servants and people otherwise employed in the castle. This was an entrance fit for an exiled murderer.

The tunnel was not small, Eddie could not see the light on the other side, and the entrance was at least fifteen feet wide and ten feet tall, big enough for a small carriage and a person or two to walk beside it. 

"State your name and need." The guard on the right yelled as Eddie approached. He was not very close, he had to yell back.

"My name is Edward, I believe I am expected. I have been exiled from my home, Opus, and have been sent to King Peleus in his graciousness." He was close now, and slowly began a decrescendo as he grew closer.

"What is in the back?" The guard on the left.

"My price, ninety pounds of gold, some leftover food for my travel as well."

"I assume you know where you are going." The right guard.

"I do."

"Then make your way." Left.

And so Eddie was allowed entrance, he did, of course, know his way, the dark tunnel was glowing orange by torches every two or three feet. Eddie's father had told him how to navigate this tunnel. He counted eight doors on his right side before stopping his wagon and climbing down. He gave three clear knocks. He heard a voice, muffled through the door after only a few moments.

"Yes?"

"I am Edward, here from Opus, I believe I am expected." Two locks click. The door opens and light floods the tunnel, from behind the door appears a young woman, likely twenty or so, she is in a gray dress, her only accessory a white ribbon to tie her auburn hair behind her neck.

"You are. A guard will come quickly to gather your things. I am Adeline." They only suffered a few moments of uncomfortable silence before the guard came and picked up Eddie's gold as if it weighed only one pound and not ninety. He dropped the smaller bag of clothes into Eddie's arms and said nothing as he disappeared behind Adeline, with the gold, with his mother's lyre. He wished he could stop him, but he knows it is the price he pays. He is officially void of his old life, and beginning the rest of his new one. Adeline speaks again.

"I will show you in, you must announce yourself to his highness."

She led him in to the room, it was small, a chair and a table sat in the nearest corner, the one opposite the door. On the table sat a metal cup which Eddie could not see the contents of. The room was not otherwise decorated, this was most likely not often occupied, as was shown by the cobwebs in the upper corners. Adeline gently closed the door behind them, and briskly walked in front of Eddie so that he could follow her. She led Eddie out of the small room and through a small hallway, then up a flight of curled stairs. Eddie lost count of the rights and the lefts, he allowed himself to be led through the castle. Eddie had practiced a few times what he planned to say, and as he was led through the maze of the palace he ran through it again. _King Peleus, thank you for your gracious offer. I have brought with me ninety pounds of gold as a token of my gratitude. I will not cause trouble while in your care, I intend to-_

"We are here." Adeline left him quickly, he was alone with the guards standing in from of the throne room.

"Edward? Of Opus, yes?" The guard on the right.

"Yes, I am here to present myself." The guards stepped apart and the one on the left opened the door.

As he entered he took in the room. The ceiling was high and the walls were gray, ordained with beautiful banners adorned with the colors and crest of Phthia. There were many torches along the walls, none, however, were lit due to the sunlight streaming in from the large windows. Eddie had entered plenty of throne rooms in his life, and never had the entrance itself been so dull. No one announced his name, no one praised his entrance. He knew they would not, but still it took him by surprise.

What took him farther aback was the sight he was to present himself to, or, rather, _who_ he was to present to.

In the front of the room was a boy, not a king. A boy, of most likely Eddie's own age, sitting with his left leg dangling and his right leg over the right arm of the throne. He assumed this was the prince, descendant of Thetis, though his seat on the throne was the only thing that led him to believe so. On this chest laid a lyre, his fingers strummed it lasily and his head was laid back, near upside down over the left arm of the throne. Somehow, even with his eyes closed and his head back, the boy was playing beautifully. He was in a plain white tunic and short black pants that did not reach his ankles. He was barefoot and had not yet seemed to take notice of Eddie's presence.

"Hello, your highness." Eddie walked to the small carpet about 6 feet from the front of the throne, right in front of a small step up to the floor where the throne sat. The boy's fingers stopped playing, though he did not open his eyes nor sit correctly.

"Hello, who are you." The boy's voice dripped like honey from his throat, not at all tense by the strain on his neck. The question was blunt, almost rude, but Eddie knew to ignore it.

"I am Edward, I am here from Opus in exile." He realized now, just how many times he had introduced himself in the past half hour. Now the prince regarded him, opening his eyes and facing toward Eddie. He felt small under his eyes.

"I am Richie, my father is King Peleus, he is currently absent." The boy's fingers once again returned to the lyre, though Eddie was not sure if it was time for him to leave. He had never met a prince quite like this one. He spoke as if he had more to say, though his stance gave the feel that he had not wished to speak at all. "Welcome to Phthia."

"Thank you. Your music is beautiful, you are extremely talented." Eddie desperately wanted to leave, embarrassment crept up his neck and coated his face red.

"Thank you, I take daily lessons."

"It shows." More moments of silence. When would he be excused.

"You will most likely have a bed prepared, I noticed you have only clothes with you, so I suppose there is not much to carry."

"There is not."

"Then I will see you at dinner." Richie laid his head back and again closed his eyes, this, Eddie knew, was his dismissal.

Eddie bowed and left quickly, for the presence of the prince was already becoming too much to bear.

He hoped he would not see him at dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> BE NICE (unless you be mean and call me pretty after, then i will forgive you)
> 
> my three Ts:  
> twitter: wackytozier  
> tumblr: adhduris  
> tiktok: kitchenloafbread


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